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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053287">A Cottage and Needlework by Candlelight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossnrocks/pseuds/mossnrocks'>mossnrocks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Journey And Other Important Things [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Enola Holmes (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author also can't sew..., Embroidery, Enola and I agree that 'Tewks' is the closest thing we're going to get to a good nickname, Enola may be AFAB but they can't sew in the slightest, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-noncomforming Enola, Genderqueer Enola, Needlework, No beta we die dramatically, Non-binary Enola, Other, Sharing A Home, Tewks and Enola are both competent, Tewks can sew, Tewks is ace and I stand by that, Tewks likes wearing dresses, There is love, but in opposite ways, there are pastries, there is tea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossnrocks/pseuds/mossnrocks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set sometime after the adventures that take place in the movie/my last few stories. (Please don't ask me about timelines,,,)</p><p>Enola Holmes may be a genius (May, may, Tewks wasn't quite sure they were actually that smart) but they were also fairly useless. Tewks sees the attempt at patchwork that Enola has done and nearly has an aneurysm. Tewks has revelations about love over a ripped coat and they both enjoy each other's company.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(IMPLIED), Enola Holmes &amp; Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury, Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Journey And Other Important Things [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Cottage and Needlework by Candlelight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I told myself I wouldn't write anymore and that was a lie. I crave the comments too much, and I'm having waaaaaaaay too much fun. lmao, enjoy, please leave comments,,,</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tewksbury was sitting at the table in he and Enola's cottage in the country. The window was just so positioned so that he could easily look out it and imagine as he did his embroidery. Yes, yes, he was still living with Enola Holmes. Scandalous, whatever. It was more comfortable than his old home and much more home-like. Tewks glanced down at his needlework, making sure he hadn't made any mistakes while lost in reverie. </p><p>He hadn't, of course. If there were two things Tewks was good at, it was botany and needlework. </p><p>Enola burst into the front room, mud on their boots and sweat on their brow. </p><p>"Tewks!" They exclaimed. "Tewks, I've done something awful!" </p><p>"Have you killed someone?!" Tewks yelped, shooting to his feet. If Enola Holmes was considering something 'awful', it must be truly horrible. "Oh god, Enola, I don't think I can cover that up for you!" </p><p>"W-what?" Enola asked, skidding to a halt. They looked at Tewks with furrowed brows and confusion plain on their face. "Of course not. Tewksbury, no offense, but I would not come to you if I had killed someone. I would go to my mother if I needed anyone. But I wouldn't." </p><p>"That's still concerning," Tewks said, twisting his hands in his skirts. So what was the alarm being pulled for now? </p><p>"I've ripped my coat!" They said, getting back on point. They held aloft the thing, a simple number that Enola had bought when they were in London. "Tewks, you have to help!" </p><p>"P-pardon?" </p><p>"You have to help. I tried to patch it before, but--" </p><p>Tewksbury looked at the coat and nearly fainted. It was terribly done. Like-- really, <em>really</em> terribly done. Large gaping stitches like weeping wounds, leaving the patches attached by only the skin of the metaphorical teeth. </p><p>"Enola." </p><p>"Yes, Tewks, light--"</p><p>"Do not." </p><p>"Of course." </p><p>"Enola Holmes, what the HELL is this?" Tewksbury brandished the coat like a weapon. "This is the worst stitching I've ever seen! And I've seen lots of bad stitching!" </p><p>Enola had the decency to look bashful in front of him. </p><p>"Sorry, sorry, Tewks. So... could you...?" </p><p>"Maybe!" He snapped. "I'll try." His voice softened then, and he patted Enola arms. Once turned around he muttered yet another 'Jesus christ, Enola'. They turned tail and fled out the door before Tewks could change his mind or chastise them more. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Supper was an affair that Enola always enjoyed. Tewks liked to take it outside, on the lawn. They'd eat fresh bread and cheese and other things, and Enola would get to watch Tewks speak about what he had done, and then Enola would get to tell him about what they were doing, what they were thinking. They loved these times when Tewks would watch them with rapt attention, nodding ever so slightly. They loved watching Tewks indulge in his desire to tell them about the plants around them, about what was going about in the garden. </p><p>Supper was a sacred time of dusk and dew and twilight, one where everything became adjacent to magical. </p><p>They set out the pastries for dessert as Tewks hunched over a notebook, scribbling something away. Mugs full of tea from Tewks' garden sat beside them, warm and inviting. Enola took a sip and nearly floated away-- before, they had never really been interested in botany, or tea, or what you could do with them. But now there was Tewks, and Tewks liked these things, so Enola learned about them. </p><p>"Are you going to eat that pastry?" Enola asked. Tewks looked up, and they admired how his hair flopped across his face. </p><p>"Huh?" Tewks' eyes widened. "Oh! Sorry, I was just planning out something."</p><p>"What?" </p><p>"Can't tell you." </p><p>"Tewks,,," Enola whined, wrapping their hands around their mug. "C'mon, tell meeeee." </p><p>"Absolutely not!" Tewksbury resisted. "It's a surprise." </p><p>Well. Enola did like some surprises-- especially when they were from Tewks. Otherwise, they were often nastier. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tewksbury leaned against the cool glass of the window, candles casting a warm glow about the room. In his hands was Enola's jacket, the old nasty thing. He lovingly began to sew it, patching the thing back together from the edge of death. </p><p>Tewks had always found comfort in the push and pull of the needle in his hand, the repetition of the needle flashing in and out. The candles burned themselves lower around him, but he continued his work.  Was this what love was? Fixing an old coat? Staying up late for their sake? </p><p>Tewks imagined Enola, with their shoulder-length hair that never stayed where it was put, the dusting of freckles across their nose, their grin of pure, unadulterated <em>glee</em> when something had gone according to their plans. He sighed. Oh, this was love. This was bliss. </p><p>He had read romance novels before-- penny books, ones he hid from Enola for some reason, as though they were an object of shame. In the books there was never people like him or Enola-- it was always a manly man and a woman that married before consummating. Tewks... Tewks did not want that. He believed that he loved Enola, loved this person that was not what he was expected to love, but he did not wish to bed them. </p><p>Was this even a surprise to him? The revelation had always been there, he realized, it was just waiting for him to see. </p><p>Tewksbury smiled to himself and kept sewing Enola's old coat. </p>
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